Upon the Ship, I see your tears
by Twisted Ending
Summary: A different ending to Chapter 4 of Burning Wind also written by us What if Zuko had instead of taken Ayame to his ship? A One Shot


**Authors note: Okay, I was bored one night and I needed some form of writing practice, so.. I got to thinking about a different take on chapter 4 of Burning wind. What if Zuko had taken her to his ship? So please read and review and tell me what you think. (The reason we didn't use this is because we didn't want them to get 'together' to quickly). **

**Sarah aka Kura Neko**

A different take on the end on chapter 4

(What if she had gone to the ship with him?)

Zuko stood up, lifting her gently onto his back. He was shocked at her lightness, as well as limpness. She didn't fight him. He would need to take her to his ship, he had medical supplies and he knew that his uncle would be suited to deal with this. He didn't know what to think of this situation. He hadn't been expecting anything even remotely similar to this. He began walking toward his ship. The leaves crackling under his feet, and the soft cold breeze of the night blew through the trees. He felt the fast heartbeats of the being on his back slow, and the breathing become gentle. Well, it was probably better if she was asleep. Walking onto a Fire Nation ship would do little good for her fragile mind.

Zuko felt burning anger, and took a lot of self-control not to burn something. He had walked into that clearing, and saw quiet plainly what was happening. A man taking advantage of a woman, using his own lustful desires and sick humor of hurting her to appease him. He hadn't even realized she was the Avatar until after the man had mentioned it. And then looked at her again, taking in the tattoos covered by bangs, and the now fading scar he had given her when they had fought.

He stepped out of the trees, he must have been lost in thought, not noticing the long walk, making it seem timeless. The ship was in the harbor, a little ways off, he had taken an escape vessel to come out. He lightly stepped onto the steel hull that was bobbing in the tide. As gently as he could he set her down on one of the benches. She did not stir. With a sigh of relief he started back toward the ship, the motor a quiet rumble.

He was grateful she had not awakened, he didn't want to watch more tears cascade down her face. He had felt a strange pang of sympathy he didn't like. As the ship moved on it felt like he wasn't sharing the boat with the Avatar he had been chasing. Someone he thought was just a boy that looked a little girly. No, he was sharing this ride with someone he had never really met, a girl, a woman. He looked at her face; a bruise of dark purple with an ugly yellow twinge was along her cheekbone. Under her eyelids she had dark shadows of exhaustion, but they did not make her look homely, only casting a shadowed look of loneliness and pain on her features. Her chin curved nicely, with full lips. Strands of dark brown hair slithered across her face when a breeze blew past them.

He looked away quickly; he didn't want her to wake up with him staring. He didn't want to look at the blood and blue patches that covered her body, turning his eyes to vast pits of sorrow and anger.

He should have gotten there faster! He should never have left her alone beside the tree! Avatar or not, no woman should ever be beaten helpless and then sexually abused. It was down right wrong! At least he had managed to arrive before something serious had taken place, at least more serious then what had already happened. He had of course killed the man responsible. He had killed that black-hearted Fire Nation man.

Fire Nation… one from his own nation. He hadn't thought about that, all he had seen was a man with cold and selfish eyes hurting someone. His rage had brought the man to the ground, with blood seeping through the soil. The Blue Spirit was now a wanted man.

With a soft clunk of metal on metal the boat climbed the ramp of his ship. He watched her intently, looking for any signs of movement. Ayame remained still, and with a final clunk the boat came to a stop. As gently as he could he picked her up in the arms, bridal style, and stepped off onto the main ship. A quick pattering of soft feet alerted him to someone's approach. He groaned; he had hoped that Uncle Iroh would have been asleep by now.

"Zuko…" he started and then stopped, staring at the obvious girl in Zuko's arms with a mixture of shock, and fury. "What are you…!" he started, his voice rising.

Zuko quickly shot him a glance; the girl in his arms moved slightly, her face pressed against his chest. Zuko swallowed the knot in his throat.

"Quiet! We don't want to wake her up!" he hissed furiously looking back at Iroh. Iroh opened his mouth to stay something but Zuko spoke over him.

"Get some warm wet towels and bandages will you? And meet me in my room," he whispered quickly and urgently. Zuko didn't want the crew to come on board and see this rather odd looking sight. Iroh gave him a stony look and quickly walked back into the ship. Zuko sighed furiously. He walked quickly toward his room, thankfully not encountering any crewmembers and opened the door awkwardly. It swung open on oiled hinges and he walked swiftly into the room. Before he had even had time to set her down, Iroh walked through the door. In his hands were two towels, a few washcloths and then some bandages. He was still giving Zuko angry eyes and was waiting for his explanation.

"Here," he said stiffly and he spread out one towel over the bed.

"Lay her on this." Zuko gently put her down. The towel was warm and slightly damp; he positioned her so that she was on her side. He walked over to Iroh and shut the door, locking it. Now they were alone in the room with the unconscious girl.

"Now young man, you have some explaining to do!" said Iroh in a furious whisper. "You said you were going to bring back the Avatar, release him from Zhao and here you come back with an unconscious woman in your arms!"

"I couldn't leave her!" Zuko growled heatedly.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't have brought her, but might I say, that when you are holding… someone in that state… it arises some questions."

Zuko took a deep breath, calming himself down. He knew what he had looked like… probably like a kidnapper or a villain. Iroh didn't wait for him to respond and kept ranting.

"So… did you walk into Zhao's tower, take her and forget to grab the Avatar as well? Or did he escape you and…"

"Uncle!" Zuko said loudly then glanced at Ayame, she didn't move. "We were tricked," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember right after we saw the Avatar for the first time?" Zuko asked, calming down trying to think of how he was going to explain this.

"Of course! You were ranting about how girly he looked and how pissed off you were that some weak boy could escape you. What's that got to do with anything!? Where is the Avatar now Zuko?" said Iroh. Zuko had never seen him so worked up; he was probably so suspicious of his motives right now.

"Uncle…The avatar is…"

"Where is he?" Iroh pressed. Zuko lost his patience.

"It's not a he! OK? I brought the avatar with me! We've been chasing a girl in disguise this whole time!" he almost yelled. Iroh took a step back as though he had been slapped.

"What?" he asked hoarsely. "You're not serious."

"I am… I rescued her from the tower. I didn't even look twice at the way her body was so thin… and…" Iroh put a hand on his shoulder.

"What happened?"

"I left. The Avatar had taken an arrow for me… I felt that I needed to return the favor…" Zuko took a deep breath and looked down.

"And?" his uncle pressed.

"I heard a scream…" Zuko shivered as he remembered it. The words… the horror inside them, a terrible terrified pleading that made his blood turn to ice.

"Someone had followed us, followed her…. And…" Zuko didn't know how to explain what he'd walked in on. His uncle felt he had a pretty good idea based on the look of horror his nephew was giving him. He patted his back.

"I'm sorry I assumed the worst."

Zuko grimaced, "It was the worst… just not including me." Iroh clasped his hand then released it and looked at his own fingers.

"What?"

Iroh held up his hand, red stain had formed. Zuko looked in panic at his hand. There was blood on it, drying now, as well as on the sleeves of his shirt. They both looked that Ayame.

"Where did you touch her?" asked Iroh as the both rushed to her side.

"H-her back," said Zuko feeling slightly shaky. As gently as they could, without waking her up, they rolled her over so that her back was facing upward. Iroh lit a few lamps and both stepped back in disgust. Blood had seeped through her shirt, mingling with dirt and leaves. A thin line of crimson fresh blood trickled down her side.

"Zuko, grab the cloth and steam it again – quickly," said Iroh. Zuko nodded, and some time later returned with the now warm cloth. Iroh was carefully lifting up her shirt.

"Uncle what are you doing!?" Zuko asked, his voice rising several octaves with the question.

"We need to see the extent of the damage; they didn't rip her shirt so it suggests that they lifted it up." He glanced up, meeting Zuko's astonished gaze. "Don't worry she won't be topless," said Iroh, smiling faintly at the last part.

Zuko felt his cheeks burn with a slight blush. Iroh put the shirt on the floor, muttering about how they will need to wash it. He was right; she wasn't topless, but still Zuko felt highly uncomfortable. A band was around the toper part of her back, covering her chest.

"She has a band on top of the usual…" said Iroh and the band came off, the strap finally snapping. "She was very good ad disguising herself."

Zuko rolled his eyes, and instead looked at her. Her skin was a lightly tanned, not as dark as the water tribe's dark skin, but darker then his white skin. But that was not what caused his eyes to narrow in anger.

All over her back were long thin cuts, the marks of a whip. Some of the bleeding had not yet stopped. Iroh handed him a rag. With a meaningful look they both began to wipe it off.

Zuko felt his stomach become queasy and his throat tighten; there was so much blood. They went at this for a near hour, cleaning various wounds. Zuko blushed madly and had to look away when Iroh wiped some blood off her thighs and when he flipped her over to wipe off her stomach. It had not escaped his notice that she was extremely attractive, with a slim figure.

At long last Iroh and Zuko put the rags down in the pill of things to be washed. Ayame was lying on a new clean towel, as though asleep. Iroh gave Zuko a nod toward the door and he followed him out. Zuko locked the door before leaving, should she wake up he didn't want her walking around the ship. They walked in silence; until at long last, they stood on the bridge. Iroh had dropped the clothes off inside a sink to soak in his room.

"I'm so confused," said Zuko leaning on the railing. He hadn't bothered to wash his hands yet and was staring at them in sorrow, the dark splotches of blood reflected in his eyes.

"Will she be ok?" Zuko asked glancing over his shoulder.

--

Iroh felt blown by the question. His nephew had never really been one for compassion, let alone compassion for the avatar. But then perhaps the fact that it was a young woman in pain was some change. He himself had been furious to see this beauty, beaten and bloody. Iroh however, really didn't know how to answer Prince Zuko's question.

"First tell me what happened," he said. He needed to know what lead up to this. And so Zuko explained everything, the escape from the tower, her pushing him out of the way of the arrow, and him leaving to his ship. He paused for a moment, and took a deep breath. Iroh saw his face pale and his hands clench as he described her scream.

"I don't know Uncle, but it was so full of pain and fear. Such a beautiful voice of terrified pleading…" He stopped and looked down. "I felt terrified, it went into my soul and screamed at me to return, begging with pleading and sobs knowing that she was doomed other wise.

"I ran to the sound of her voice, looking through the leaves… I saw…" Zuko looked up at his uncle, his eyes full of pain and malice.

"He was on top of her… tears like diamonds running down her face, stained crimson hands were shaking and failing to hold him back. He… he… kissed her neck, whispering things in her ear. She was begging him, pleads that sent chills through me. I heard her shriek and I couldn't stand it any longer…" Zuko had to take a deep breath before continuing. The mere memory of it made him want to destroy something. He hadn't even realized it was her! This beautiful girl being taken advantage of… he had felt his mother's wrath beside his own.

He explained how he had killed the man and then he summed up the questions he had asked her, editing of course the ending part. Iroh remained silent after he had finished.

"Do you have any idea what else they did to her in the tower? Any clues other then the whip marks?" he asked. Zuko shook his head.

"Other then the fact that they did beat her and…whip her… nothing. I don't know how long." He hung his head. "When I entered that room she was hanging so limply against those chains, her eyes were deep pits tormented by pain and fear. She fell to the ground when I caught her loose." Iroh nodded looking out over the sea.

"So… will she be alright?" Zuko asked going back to his original question. Iroh stifled a groan, he had hoped to side track him. He turned to him, looking into the anxious face of his nephew. He had never been one to show much emotion… he couldn't lie.

"I don't know Prince Zuko," he started; Zuko spoke again.

"There was so much blood…"

"I think that her body will heal yes, perhaps she will be in pain for a while more but, she should heal. It was lucky she didn't break any bones or that would have decreased her chances severely. No, what I am most worried about is her mental state of mind. This is going to haunt her for a very long time. She will never forget it, a man may be able to shake it off if he was just beaten… but… being raped for a girl…is horrifying, the thought of it happening is sickening, and the worst experience for her.

"Women go to sleep and have nightmares of the man's face burned into their mind as his laughter and voice echoes in their head, taunting them endlessly." Iroh shook his head in sorrow.

Zuko looked horrified, and Iroh clasped his shoulder. "Now, we have to hope she wakes up."

--

Ayame looked down, underneath her bare feet were dried leaves. She was running through the trees, the night pressing in all around her. She ran into a clearing and someone grabbed her roughly from behind, his grip tight.

"Hello sweetie," said the sinister voice in her ear. Her eyes widened and everything from the black tower flashed in her eyes. The injuries felt and inflicted upon her skin again. The eyes of men all around her, their harsh fists beating on her. She let out whimpers as the pain came again afresh, the stinging, cutting, pain of it.

The man threw her onto the ground, climbing onto her. Ayame clasped the dried leaves and tried to crawl away, thrashing to and fro. He drew close to her ear, freezing her blood, becoming petrified.

"Your mine," he leered his hands slipping up her shirt and down her pants.

She screamed and sat bolt up right, covered in cold sweat, her hands shaking heavily, her eyes looking around the room feverishly. Her eyes locked on Zuko and Uncle Iroh standing looking at her anxiously in the doorway. She yelled in shock and backed against the wall, while staying on the bed.

"W-What's going on?" she asked her voice high and frightened.

"Avatar…" Iroh began taking a step forward.

"Stay away!" She said panicky. She realized she wasn't wearing her shirt, only her cloth bra, covering the top half of her body. She grabbed the blanket.

"Where's my shirt!?" she asked, "What…"

"Calm down, Avatar we are not going to hurt you," said Zuko and he took a step forward. She gulped, fear and adrenaline pulsing through her veins. Iroh started walking forward.

"It's ok, we're…"

"No!" she yelled and she stepped off the bed and almost collapsed. Zuko made to catch her.

"Avatar…"

"Stay away!" she said again backing into a corner. Looking wide-eyed from one to the other. Iroh took a step back and went behind Zuko.

"You talk to her, you rescued her," he muttered to him.

"Like that's going to help anything," Zuko hissed back. Iroh gave a meaningful look toward Ayame and Zuko sighed. He took a tentative step forward, keeping eye contact with her.

"Air bender, we aren't going to hurt you, we have no reason to," he said hoping she could read the sincerity in his eyes. Ayame watched as he took another step toward her, her pulse accelerating. He took another step and she felt herself trying to silently disappear into the wall.

Zuko knelt down, so that he was not towering over her and inspiring less fear. To him she was not the Avatar, she had no resemblance; she was a woman he had never met before.

"It's ok," said Zuko softly. Ayame was surprised to hear the tenderness in his voice. She looked up at him.

Zuko felt as if he was addressing a young child, separated from her mother and terrified of the world. He opened his arms, offering a hand to her.

"No one's going to hurt you." His eyes crinkled, even though he didn't really smile. Ayame glanced at his hand. And nervously slipped her small hand in his. He clasped is gently and stood her up, putting his arm around her and helping her walk to the bed.

Zuko's comforting arm felt pleasantly hot against her cold skin. He allowed her to go onto the bed where she curled up under the blankets, her face in his pillow. Zuko went over to stand by Iroh who had let out a sigh of relief.

"I'll make you some tea miss," said Iroh. He gave a nod at Zuko who went to his closet. Iroh left. Ayame watched Zuko intently, still not able to trust him completely.

"Here," he tossed her a loose T-shirt. Ayame put it on in light speed.

"Thank you," she muttered. The shirt was plain, black, and made from a rather soft material. Zuko merely nodded feeling uncomfortable. She laid back down, and then less then two minutes later she sat back up, her face in her knees. Zuko looked closer.

Her shoulders were shaking lightly, her face streaked with silent tears. Zuko hated it. He didn't like seeing her like this. He had to fight the urge to walk over and hug her. Luckily Iroh arrived then, carrying a cup in his hand. He sat on the bed next to her, and gently touched her shoulder.

"Here," he held up the cup for her. "It's Jasmine." Ayame took a small sip and let the liquid warm her up.

"That's it," said Iroh, he put the cup on the dresser. He made to get up…

"Wait." Ayame's quiet gentle voice was barely heard in the silence. Iroh stopped and sat back down, his tender smile warming her up more then the tea.

"Stay," she muttered and she put her head on his shoulder, crawling into his lap. Iroh though very surprised, smiled. He put his arms around her lightly, giving her a hug as she cried into his shirt.

Zuko watched in silence as his uncle whispered words of comfort to the girl on his lap. He caught words every now and then like; "it's ok," and "your safe now," from his uncle.

He felt compassion for her, he wanted to go and hug her too. It was an odd feeling, like protectiveness. The thought of her almost having to endure that… raped in the woods… sent chills down his spine and a surge of hate at Zhao. He could only hope that he managed to arrive before the worst had occured. He stayed on the windowsill; unsure of whether approaching her was a good idea at this time.

"Hush…" came Iroh's low voice.

"He hurt me… he… hic… was… hic…going to..." she whispered, hiccupping quietly. Iroh patted her on the back and rocked side to side. They lost track of the time, but it couldn't have been long for it was still night with dawn nowhere in sight, when Ayame's breathing steadied and Iroh laid her back on the pillow and put the blanket over her.

--

Back in the hall Zuko had began passing. His uncle was looking at him anxiously.

"Zuko…" he began. Zuko stopped and looked at him.

"How are we going to go back chasing her after this?"

"I don't know…"

--

"I'm going to bed," said Zuko. He was exhausted from trying to escape from the tower.

"What about the girl?"

"I'll just be in your room," he said. Iroh gave him a look. After a minute Zuko finally asked, "What?"

"You need to check on her, every now and then. If she is crying you need to comfort her," he said. Zuko felt queasy.

"But…. Uncle! She doesn't even like me that much… and… why can't you do it?" Zuko asked trying to get his point across.

"Zuko, come on lad, you rescued her, you can try to comfort her."

"But, where am I going to sleep?"

Zuko rolled his eyes before his uncle could respond; he knew the answer.

"I'll get a spare mattress or something…"

--

Ayame thrashed in her sleep. The forest had come again into her dream world. He was on top of her, laughing, she crying. He hit her again and again. She felt the tugging of him trying to remove her lower clothing.

"No," she whimpered, pleading.

"Stop, don't!" her voice ringing in her head. She tried to break free of his unrelenting grip. The man gave an evil grin and leered close. Ayame screamed and woke with a jolt, breathing heavily. The room was empty this time as she brought her knees to her chest. Water poured down her face.

--

Zuko took a deep breath and entered, he put the mattress he had stolen from a spare bunk on the floor. He glanced up at the bed and did a double take; she wasn't there. He walked quickly but lightly to the bed making sure. She was gone, along with the pillow, only the blanket left.

Zuko was about to panic before he closed his eyes and made himself calm down. She didn't leave the room; he had locked the door. He looked in his closet. Nothing there. Realization hit and he walked over to the bed and bent down, looking underneath it. She was there, clutching the pillow as silent tears slipped under her eyelids.

He went flat on his belly and brushed some of her hair out of the tear streaks. Gently as he could, he lifted her out from under the bed and into his arms. She whimpered as the pillow accidentally fell out of her hands. Something happened in her dream as she suddenly pressed her face against his nightshirt, her hand grabbing his shoulder.

"Shush," he said quietly, brushing his hand gently across her cheek. He made to lay her back down, tenderly trying not to wake her. Her trembling fingers remained clenched on his shirt…

**And... that's all I got...**

**If I get more then four reviews asking me to finish the scene then I will. Hope you enjoyed.**

**Sarah **


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